


one of the wonders

by coffeesuperhero



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Babies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesuperhero/pseuds/coffeesuperhero





	one of the wonders

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[fic](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [fic: bsg](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/tag/fic:%20bsg)  
  
---|---  
  
_**fic: BSG: one of the wonders**_  
**Title:** one of the wonders  
**Fandom:** Battlestar Galactica (2003)  
**Pairing:** Kara/Lee  
**Rating:** PG  
**Length:** ~2500  
**Prompt:**: babyfic!  
**A/N:** For the first annual challenge at [](http://community.livejournal.com/no_takebacks/profile)[**no_takebacks**](http://community.livejournal.com/no_takebacks/). Thanks to [](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/profile)[**leiascully**](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/) for looking this over, to [](http://jeebs83.livejournal.com/profile)[**jeebs83**](http://jeebs83.livejournal.com/) for coming up with the challenge, and to [](http://nazkey.livejournal.com/profile)[**nazkey**](http://nazkey.livejournal.com/) for the prompt. Cross-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/sasa_hq/profile)[**sasa_hq**](http://community.livejournal.com/sasa_hq/) and [](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg2003fics/profile)[**bsg2003fics**](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg2003fics/).   
**Disclaimers:** This isn't for profit, just for fun! All characters &amp; situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song of Natalie Merchant's, which I also had nothing to do with.

Kara is pissed. Her back hurts, her feet hurt, she's frakking _grounded_, and she can't even take her frustration out on the person who's responsible for all of this, because he has to fly CAP for the next three hours, and after he gets back she'll be too tired to care about fighting anymore.

Frakking babies. Frakking pregnancy. Frakking Apollo.

Okay, well, that part is usually pretty great, she thinks, smiling in spite of her mood. When she's alone like this and no one's around to see, she's actually not too bothered by the whole idea of sharing her body with a tiny person for nine months. She only complains because it's fun, and because it's still the end of the frakking worlds, and if you can't complain about getting knocked up after everything has gone to shit, well, when _can_ you complain?

She does have to admit that their timing was shitty, but Lee was so frakking depressed after the whole Olympic Carrier run, and while she was sympathetic, she just didn't want to hear about it anymore. He had wanted to talk about his feelings. She had wanted her tongue in his mouth. It was a problem. She solved it by taking her shirt off. It worked. He stopped talking.

Things on Galactica had been so beyond insane that she didn't even realize what was going on at first. She and Lee were both so hung over the next day from splitting her last bottle of Aerelon's finest and another bottle of the deck gang's homebrewed paint-thinner that she had gone about her duties with a headache the size of Galactica. Two days later, the water tanks had blown, and then she'd had to rescue Lee's sorry ass from Tom Zarek, and then the Old Man had told her to train a new round of nuggets and everything had gone from shit to worse and she had nearly died on some godsforsaken moon. She'd come back with a Cylon raider, a busted knee, and some very surprising bloodwork.

She hadn't taken the news very well, but it wasn't because she hadn't wanted to hear it. She just hadn't wanted to hear it _now_, at the end of the worlds, when they needed every damn pilot they had. It was bad enough to know that her knee would keep her grounded for at least a month, but a baby meant she wouldn't see combat for much, much longer. Roslin can just keep on insisting that the survival of the human race depends on everybody getting naked and turning out babies, but somebody has to keep everybody safe while they're frakking, and that's Starbuck, and Apollo, and the rest of Galactica, and she hates doing nothing while she could be kicking Cylon ass with the rest of the Viper jocks.

But this was life, and she wasn't about to just throw that away, so she had sucked it up and told the doc to tell Lee to get himself to sick bay. Cottle had grinned like he'd just won some kind of frakking bet.

Whatever Lee had been expecting when he turned up in sick bay and drew the curtains around her bed, it probably hadn't been, "Congratulations, you knocked me up," but that's what he got.

Lee had needed to sit down.

She doesn't want to admit that she held her breath while she had to lay there and watched him think things over, but she did. She's endured some long moments in her life, like the horrible afternoon when they told her that her knee was too frakked to play pyramid, or the hours after Chief told her Lee hadn't made it, but nothing had ever been worse than waiting for the silence between them to break. She almost didn't wait. If it had been about her, she might not have. She might have told him to get the hell out. But the minute Cottle had told her the news, it had stopped being about her, and for the sake of that tiny life, she toughed it out, and finally, he had said something.

"I love you. I always have."

She had rolled her eyes at his complete inability to address a situation without talking about feelings, even though some part of her had been godsdamned glad to hear that. "Why are you telling me that? That's not the point."

"It's the end of the worlds, Kara. I figured it was time to confess my sins," Lee had said, throwing her words back at her, but with a smile so bright she felt like she finally understood where the frak that call sign of his came from. It was the first time she had thought that this whole crazy mess might just work.

It had been a little irritating telling the rest of Galactica. It seemed like everybody from the knuckledraggers to the frakking XO had some kind of general understanding that Starbuck and Apollo were gonna frak eventually, and that it had better be sooner than later, and while she doesn't normally care if people know about her conquests, it's different when it's Lee. He's... special. Always has been. She's getting more comfortable with that. She thinks he is, too.

They're not getting hitched, at least for now. Lee hasn't asked, but she knows he'd do it in a heartbeat, and that's enough for her to deal with. It's not that she doesn't love him. She does. But the kid's a big enough step for now, and the rest of it will either happen or it won't. They're together. They haven't completely freaked out. Nobody's running. It works.

With all their family issues, she's still amazed that they haven't killed each other yet. It helps that the Old Man got them a billet as soon as Lee got up the nerve to explain the situation. Lee hadn't wanted to tell him, kept saying that it would be weird, that he would be angry, if not because of Zak then because he'd managed to put their best pilot out of commission. She's still proud of herself for not slugging him. He had really deserved it, with all the whining and carrying on. Blame it on frakking biology, but she just couldn't bring herself to hit him, so she had given him her best "Are you frakking kidding me?!" look, and he had surrendered.

It had gone much better than Lee had expected, just like she knew it would. To say that the Old Man was delighted would be the understatement of the frakking century.

She has no idea where he's coming up with all these baby clothes, but they just keep appearing. Last week she came back to find a cradle and a fluffy blanket. Two weeks ago it had been a stuffed Viper toy, and Lee had made That Face at it. Holy-Hera-mother-of-the-gods, but Lee could make faces. Sometimes she jokes to Sharon that Lee was obviously born in the wrong time. He could have made a killing in silent films.

Lee had muttered something about nobody telling his kid what to be, and it was probably only because it was the first time she'd heard him say the words, "my kid," that she hadn't been tempted to shut this whole domestic bliss experiment down.

"So you have issues, Lee," she had said, arms crossed over the slowly growing mound of her belly, "who frakking doesn't? This has to be more important."

Lee had said that she was one to talk. It was true then and she knows that it's true now, but she also knows, with the same wild-eyed crazy conviction that had her ramming her Viper into his a few months ago, that this is something they can handle. She's not saying it'll be easy. It isn't. There are some nights when she still lays awake, scared that all of this has happened before and all of this will happen again, that she'll end up being her mother, that Lee is right when he says, in his more frakked-up moments, that he has no idea how to be a father. Maybe it's a weird situation, with two frakked-up people who had less than stellar mothers raising a kid together after one of them was engaged to the other's only sibling. Yeah, sure, it's a little out of bounds, but out of the box is where she lives. If it was all traditional romance with the hearts and the flowers and the sparkly rings and the big expensive ceremonies, she wasn't having any of it anyway.

"Your parents are frakked in the head, kiddo," she tells the baby. "But look, you can't say 'frak' until you're old enough to know what it means, okay?" The kid gives her a swift kick in response, and she grins. The first time that happened, it had woken her up out of a sound sleep and a damn good dream where she was winning the Twelve Colonies Triad Tournament. She had been displeased but proud, and Lee had said that anybody who kicked that hard at such a young age was definitely her kid. "Just mine?" she had asked, raising an eyebrow at him, and he had smiled and said, "Just wait 'til my kid starts _talking_."

It turns out that being woken up in the middle of the night by a baby mule isn't so bad when you're sleeping next to Lee Adama. He knows just how to get a girl to go to back to sleep.

So they still fight a lot, but with space of their own, they frak a lot, too, and that seems to work, at least for the time being. Doc says that'll probably fall off after about six months, which is coming up soon. It sounds worse than hack, but then again, she'll probably be the size of a Raptor by then, and less maneuverable than a godsdamned bus at that, so maybe the lack of sex will be the least of her problems. She raises an eyebrow at the curve of her belly. "Not looking forward to that third trimester, Junior," she says, and she doesn't bother to fight back the smile that takes over her face.

So they have issues. So what? They're dealing. She has no idea how, but she finds hope in unexpected places, like the goofy grin Lee has when he looks at her while he thinks she's not watching, the silly conversations they have about teaching the kid to play pyramid, even the serious conversations that she never wants to have but Lee insists on having, or sometimes, when she surprises herself, that she insists on.

"If this is a boy, we're not naming him Zak," she had insisted flatly around month number three, daring him to say otherwise, but Lee had accepted without argument, which she considered a small miracle.

"No," Lee had agreed. "We're not. This one... this one's ours."

So maybe she had cried a little. Maybe she had let Lee hold her. It's not like the hormones are turning her into a sap, though. She can still take anybody in the ship. Blindfolded. With a bum knee and a hand tied behind her back. Nobody should even question that. Anyway, Lee had cried, too, so at least they're even.

"Your mom's still the galaxy's biggest godsdamned badass, okay?" she says in the direction of her belly, wrinkling her nose a little. "And your dad does alright, too. But look, don't say 'godsdamned,' okay? Or 'badass.' At least not for awhile. Oh, frak this," she sighs, slumping into a nearby chair and wriggling her toes. "You know what? If you come out cursing, we'll just blame the XO. It'll be our little secret. We'll shake on it when you get outta there."

She's sitting on something, and she shifts around awkwardly and fishes behind her back until she wrestles the stuffed Viper out from under her. She shakes her head at it. Lee's hissy fit about Bill had all been for nothing, because as it turned out, the Viper had been from the XO. She's still having trouble wrapping her brain around that one, but according to Bill, the old drunk has a big soft spot for kids. Seems that he and his wife always wanted a passel of their own, but couldn't have any.

"Maybe that's a good thing," Kara had said, irritated, when Bill had mentioned all of this to her. The Old Man had told her to consider that maybe she didn't get along with Saul because they were too much alike. It's the only time she can remember that she's wanted to hit Bill Adama. If it had been Lee, she'd have punched him in the face for saying that. She told Bill as much, and he had just laughed, really laughed, like everything was gonna be okay, like everything already was, and then she had laughed too, because all of it was so absurd.

She was glad they'd had that little talk later, when she caught Saul sneaking into the room with another stuffed toy and a diaper bag. He had tried to pretend it was from Bill. She had called him on it.

"Better sober up, sir," she had said, swinging the hatch door open for him. "One of these days, I'm gonna need a babysitter."

"It's a good thing you can't put pregnant soldiers in hack," he had growled, scowling at her, but she could tell that something was different, or at least, she could tell that she didn't hate him quite as much as she usually did. So maybe the hormones _are_ turning her a sap, but it seems like it's working out for everyone. She hasn't smelled liquor on the XO's breath in a week. "It's another frakking miracle, Junior," she says, patting her stomach. "Don't forget that agreement. I'm holding you to that."

Months later, Junior turns out to be a perfectly healthy baby girl. She looks like an alien with Lee's hair and her eyes, and she's the most beautiful thing Kara has ever seen since she first got a view of the sky from her cockpit. "Remember our agreement, okay?" she says, and tiny fingers curl around her thumb.

She's not looking at Lee, because she isn't really willing to take her eyes off their daughter, but she knows exactly what face he's making, and she can almost hear that crease fold in between his eyebrows as he asks, "Agreement?"

"It's between me and our daughter," she tells him, and for the moment, there's nowhere else she'd rather be.


End file.
